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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23483374">Straighten Up</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlimeAndSnails/pseuds/SlimeAndSnails'>SlimeAndSnails</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Obey Me! But It's Gay [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shall We Date?: Obey Me!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Asmodeus Being Asmodeus, Disappointing, How Do I Tag, M/M, Multi, let me be gay ao3, male reader - Freeform, rated for asmo being lusty, really? is that not a tag?, this is dumb and i lost most motivation like 2/3 through</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 08:21:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,524</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23483374</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlimeAndSnails/pseuds/SlimeAndSnails</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: MC has a habit of fixing Satan's bowtie and the rest of the brothers take notice of it and change their wardrobe just to see if they get the same treatment.<br/>Masc!MC</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, House Of Lamentation - Relationship, Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Obey Me! But It's Gay [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689466</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1122</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue: The Beginning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I’ll do you one better, Bass. MC fixes buttons and jackets and all manner of garments in this.</p><p>Not gonna lie, I lost motivation part way through this so sorry to the boys I didn't put much effort into. *sweats nervously*</p><p>This took me like a thousand years to write i'm sorry </p><p>MC/reader's name is represented by (_). If you'd like to replace it with a preferred name, you might look into a text replacement extension for your browser!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Breakfast is a little awkward, as always. Beelzebub has once again stolen Levi’s lunch, munching happily on it while Levi screeches at him indignantly. Asmo is taking a selfie with his food, Mammon is shoveling his own into his mouth with gusto. Lucifer simply has a cup of coffee, apparently in a rush to get somewhere this morning. Belphie is just getting started on his food, having come down late as always.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And you are currently painstakingly re-tying Satan’s bowtie, because he’s always got it on just a little bit too crooked for your tastes. At least he wears both sleeves on his uniform, unlike that blue jacket of his. You smooth your hands over the now pristine bow, then move one down to pat his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There,” you say. “All done. You’re nice and dapper now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, (_). I appreciate it.” He smiles at you, touching the knot you’ve carefully made. You wave him off, sitting back down to finish up your breakfast before you have to rush off to class. Satan picks up his discarded book and heads out early, flicking Mammon on the ear as he goes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, everyone else has turned their attention to you. Asmo looks thoughtful, which is never good. Belphie and Mammon both have very different expressions on their face, but both are hard to discern. Levi is practically vibrating in his seat, thought that’s probably because Beel just finished his last egg and is chewing it alarmingly loudly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Is there something on my face?” You wipe at your mouth with a napkin. “Did I get it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucifer shakes his head, chuckling softly. “Something like that,” he answers, standing up. “You should get to class.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You look at your phone, noting that you’re almost late. “Ah, shit. Thanks Lucifer! See you guys after class!” You scramble out of your seat, stuffing some weird demon toast in your mouth and practically flinging yourself through the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Man,” mumbles Mammon, just under his breath. “Wish he’d do that for me.” He touches his tie self-consciously.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 1: Strange Things Afoot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Mammon has been acting weird. Well, weirder than normal. He’s pretty much always got some harebrained scheme to make money up his sleeve, so “suspicious” is an adjective that can describe him all the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But this is weird in a totally different way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s been around you even more than usual (which is saying something, he can be very clingy) and practically tripping you with how close he’s been standing. But that’s not as distracting to you as his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>God.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He never wears it properly, but it’s been steadily getting worse. Today it’s barely even clinging to his neck, knot done backwards and one of the ends tucked awkwardly between a couple shirt buttons. It can’t be a fashion statement at this point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s kind of starting to piss you off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude! Are you even listening to me?!” He’s rambling about something, but you don’t really care. You’re currently doing your very best to glare his stupid tie into submission. It’s not working. The knot slips just a little bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You sigh, taking his shoulders and turning him towards you properly, and with a bit more force than intended. Mammon splutters, cheeks going red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! No touchin’!” He growls at you unconvincingly, but makes no move to actually push you away as you start digging the offending scrap of cloth out of his shirt. Your fingers meet warm skin for a moment (Mammon sucks in a sharp breath of air.) before you tug the tie out and start to untie it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve had it with this damn thing. Learn how to tie a tie!” You mutter angrily, fumbling the buttons of his shirt closed and smoothing down his collar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mammon coughs, tucking his chin down. “Pssh. It’s a fashion statement,” he lies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh huh.” You deftly tuck the tie under his collar and start knotting it properly, looking at him. His face is beet red. “Seriously, learn. I don’t wanna have to do this for you every day, you’re not a child.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks at you with his annoyingly pretty eyes, opens his mouth to speak-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And you tighten the tie up against his throat sharply, Mammon’s words being smothered by a soft gasp. Somehow he gets even redder, clasping a hand over yours and gripping tightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“(_)!” he stutters, voice shaking slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You quickly loosen the tie a bit. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sorry, Mammon.” You push his collar out of the way so you can check his neck for bruises, momentarily forgetting that he’s an intimidatingly powerful demon and you have very little chance of hurting him for real. “You okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slaps your hand away when you touch his throat. “I’m fine!” he barely squeaks out, stepping away from you and fixing his tie properly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay. Sorry.” You reach out and brush some lint off his jacket, noting that he doesn’t flinch away from you. “Let’s get to the next class, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mammon nods, huffs, and quickly power walks past you, barely glancing back to make sure you’re following.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thinks he might need to rethink this tie business.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 2: Of Buttons and Banisters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Asmodeus is draped decoratively- no, make that </span>
  <em>
    <span>dramatically</span>
  </em>
  <span>, against the stair railing in the main hall. His shirt is unbuttoned and his uniform jacket is nowhere to be seen. His whole chest is exposed, smooth skin marred with a slight hint of… body glitter? Shimmery lotion of some sort? Who knows. His neck ribbon is tucked delicately into his pants pocket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“(_)!” He whines, drawing out the vowels of your name. “Help me!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You sigh, stuffing your phone into your pocket and going over to him. “What?” you ask, already half knowing the answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, (_). I knew you’d come to my rescue!” Asmo swoons, placing his hand over his heart and closing his eyes. “You see, I got to bed late last night. And you know how terrible lack of sleep is for my beautiful delicate skin, so I had to sleep in just a bit. But!” His eyes snap open, voice pitching up. “I woke up to a chipped nail! So of course, I had to re-do all of my nails. And now they’re drying so slowly.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... Uh huh.” You’re not sure how much you believe this story, but it’s usually best to humor him a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, if I went to class like this everyone would be so distracted by my gorgeous body that no one would get any work done. And we wouldn’t want that! So you see, my dear, sweet, lovely (_). Could you pretty please help me with my shirt? With a cherry on top?” He bats his eyelashes at you alluringly, lips curling into a falsely innocent smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You rub your forehead, debating for a moment. What the hell? Can’t hurt. “Okay, sure. Come here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He slowly stands up, pushing off the banister with one hand and stepping up to you. The smile doesn’t leave his face, instead getting wider and wider as you grab his shirt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Be gentle with me~.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You tug his shirt closed and start buttoning it as professionally as you can. “Asmo, you’re nasty.” You make sure not to look him in the eyes. He may not be able to charm you with them, but they’re dangerous nonetheless. He doesn’t respond, just watches your fingers work with a lot more interest than necessary. Once you’ve gotten the shirt buttoned, you reach for his ribbon, pulling it out of his pocket quickly so you can keep your hands as far away from his pants as possible. He makes a truly inappropriate sound when you wrap it around his neck and start tying it under his collar, but still doesn’t say anything until you finish knotting it and pull away, job done.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, wait. One more thing,” he says, placing a hand on your arm. “You aren’t done yet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You squint suspiciously at him. He chuckles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Could you please tuck my shirt in, too?” He wiggles his fingers at you, still smelling slightly of nail polish. “Wouldn’t want any smudges.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You just look at him blankly. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> make a fuss if he fucked up his nails.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please?” Asmo gently lifts your chin up with one slender finger. “I’ll owe you a favor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You swallow. Damn him. “Okay.” And your hands go to the hem of his shirt, carefully tucking the tails into his pants. And Lucifer picks that exact moment to walk into the room, just as you’ve got your fingers dipped into his brother’s waistline and Asmo’s practically purring at you with his hand under your chin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, my, (_). You should’ve put your hands down my pants sooner.” Asmo snickers, looking you over like a piece of meat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucifer closes his eyes very tightly and pinches the bridge of his nose.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You roll your eyes and finish tucking in his shirt, pushing him away from you. “Shut up, Asmo. I feel dirty now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Asmo laughs loudly, adjusting his neck ribbon. You just glare at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucifer walks between you two, rolling his eyes. “(_), don’t encourage him,” he warns and disappears off into the aether. You look after him longingly, hoping to get some sort of rescue from the lustiest of the brothers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Asmo huffs and turns your face towards him, then gives a satisfied little smile now that all focus is on him. “Thanks for the help, (_).” He leans in, pressing a tiny kiss on the very tip of your nose. “Let me know when you want to cash in that favor, hmm?” He winks at you languidly and runs his finger down your jaw, humming softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then he’s also disappeared, hopefully to find his jacket.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 3: Enforcement</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Your door is open, but Beelzebub knocks on it anyway. You wave for him to come in, pausing your music and setting down your phone. Beel steps in and sits on the edge of your bed, peeking up at one of the lanterns hanging off the tree.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s up, Beel?” You nudge him with your foot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beel frowns, which you’ve learned mostly just means he’s either hungry or thinking and not that he’s actually angry. He pulls something out of his pocket, dropping it on your lap. It’s a bowtie, dark red and silky. It has a mustard stain on it that has been scrubbed at thoroughly, damaging the delicate fibers. You raise your eyebrow at Beel and he rubs at his wrist, face pinking up just enough to be visible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“One of the teachers said I need to start wearing one. She said I’m out of uniform.” His frown deepens. “But I haven’t worn any kind of tie in a really long time, so I don’t really remember how to tie them.” It’s clear he’s slightly embarrassed about it, but it explains why he’s in uniform despite it being late at night. He finally looks directly at you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you help me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You can’t possibly say no to him, so you gather up the tie and get up to stand in front of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright,” you start, reaching boldly for the front of his shirt. “First thing you’re gonna wanna do is button this up.” You start to button up his shirt for him, silently lamenting the collarbones disappearing behind the fabric. He looks up at you from behind his fiery bangs, throat bobbing as he swallows. He looks a lot more nervous than he should. “Then you put it around your neck.” You slide the cloth around his neck carefully and flip his collar down over it. “Now, watch what I do with it so you can try the knot yourself. I’m gonna do a simple one, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks down at your hands, shifting his legs so you can step closer to him. You carefully ignore the fact that you’re standing between his thighs, and start slowly tying a neat little bow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aaaand,” you tighten it carefully into place, fingers brushing against his neck. “There you go. Very handsome.” His eyes snap up to your face as you undo your work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You ready to try?” you ask, resting your hands on his broad shoulders. He nods distractedly and, without taking his eyes off of yours, quickly ties it without making a single mistake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Huh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought you didn’t know how to do that, Beel.” You raise your eyebrow at him, tugging at the knot. He looks away from you, face turning pinker.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You helped me remember.” He leans his head into his shoulder, cheek pressing against the back of your hand, and gives you a small but bright smile. “Thanks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You laugh, ruffling up his hair. “No problem. Let me know next time you need help with something.” He nods, waiting for you to step back so he can get up without bowling you over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once he’s standing, he looks over at you thoughtfully for a second before seeming to come to a decision. Warm arms wrap around you, Beel resting his head against yours. He hugs you for a few moments before his stomach growls, loud enough that you can actually feel it against your own body. He groans, pulling away from you and placing a hand over his stomach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You take pity on him, patting his chest. “Go get something to eat. I won’t tell Lucifer, don’t worry.” Beel perks up, smiling at you again. He gives you another quick hug and quickly leaves the room, off to find something to fill the black hole he calls a stomach.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 4: Early Morning and Dark Rings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Lucifer is not a morning person, that much has been clear from the get-go. He’s even told you as much, more than once, while yawning and sucking down coffee like his life depended on it. You think he might have a caffeine problem, but you have no intention of bringing it up at the moment. Not when he looks so tired and overworked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He has thin circles under his eyes and his hair is just slightly messy, his tie off kilter. He’s not even gotten around to putting his gloves on, having set them on the kitchen table and dragged the chair in the corner over to sit in. For Lucifer, this is the equivalent to leaving his room with no pants on and a backwards shirt. Since there’s no school today, it’s your turn to make breakfast. So you’ve taken it upon yourself to make him coffee this morning as well. You carefully pour the scalding coffee into a nice mug, watching the steam swirl up out of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you take it black, but…” you give his hair a pointed look. “You look like you need a little extra sugar in there too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucifer looks up at you with tired eyes, blinking slowly. He rests his cheek on his fist, sighing quietly. “I think you may be rig-” He’s cut off by a loud yawn, covering his mouth with red tipped fingers. You grin and dump a little bit of sugar into the coffee, stirring it in thoroughly and stepping over to the table to set the mug down in front of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Careful, it’s hot.” You warn. He peers down at it for a moment before picking it up and downing the whole thing in one go, giving you a good view of his crooked tie. Thick curls of steam pour languidly out of his mouth as he sets down the cup and sighs in bliss. For a moment you’re concerned he must have burned his mouth until you remember that Asmo regularly sits in hot springs that run several hundred degrees. And now you feel a bit silly, honestly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucifer looks up at you, visibly a bit more lucid. His eyes flick between the empty mug and you for a moment. You take the hint and the mug, going to get him some more. You hear him shift a bit as you pour another cup, hopefully putting on his gloves or fixing his tie. You stir some sugar into the coffee and go to give it to him, but when you turn you damn near drop the mug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucifer’s top button is undone. Was it like that before? You’re not sure, but you think you would’ve noticed. You quickly look away, shaking your head to get rid of the image of that dip between his collarbones peeking out of his shirt. Stupid hot demons, not knowing how to dress themselves. Clearing your throat, you set the mug down in front of him, watching his eyes slide open tiredly and look down at it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, (_).” He picks it up and sips at it carefully this time, giving a happy little hum. You stare at the rumpled knot of his tie, hands itching to reach for it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Don’t give in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You give in. You take the mug from Lucifer, ignoring his sharp look and displeased grunt, and set it down out of his reach. He tries to stand up to get it back, but you set your hand on his other shoulder and push him back down into his seat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“(_)...” He glares up at you, but he’s so tired and soft this morning that you feel no real danger. You button up his collar, watching carefully for any sign that he’s about to transform and skin you alive or anything like that. But there’s nothing of the sort. He just huffs and leans closer so you can reach better. And also so that he can grab his mug back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honestly, Lucifer. You need to figure out how to get rid of some of that workload,” you mutter, tugging his tie into place and pressing the wrinkles out with your fingers. “This isn’t like you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucifer sighs, shaking his head. “I can’t. My work is important, and I can’t just push it off on someone else.” You comb your fingers through his hair (which is somehow even silkier than it looks) and brush his bangs out of his face. From this close you can really see how tired he looks, and your heart softens just a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well. You still deserve a little time off.” You pat his chest and step away before he decides you’ve been in his personal space for too long. He slips his gloves on, finishing his coffee, and a sour expression crosses his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... (_). Something’s burning.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“SHIT! THE EGGS!”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 5: Late Start</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Once again, Belphegor is late. So late, in fact, that he’s still in the process of getting dressed as he grabs a slice of toast and shoves it in his mouth. He fumbles with his shirt buttons with one hand while Lucifer taps his foot and scowls, obviously wanting to get everyone out of the door on time for once.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You roll your eyes and go over to them, quickly buttoning up Belphie’s shirt and knotting his tie up sloppily. He blinks slowly at you, cheeks heating up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I could’ve done it myself…” He mumbles around his toast, voice muffled. Lucifer sighs and waves you both out the door, shoving Belphie’s coat into your arms. You tug Belphie along with you, shaking him a bit to try and wake him up more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leans his head on your shoulder, grumbling tiredly. You sigh, giving up on waking him up. At least you can make him </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span> ready for class. You stop, nearly knocking the poor man off balance, and hold his coat out to him. “C’mon. You gotta get dressed. You’ll get in trouble if you’re out of uniform.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Belphie sighs, standing up and letting you toss the coat over his shoulders. After much effort, you manage to get him into it properly and carefully straighten his tie, folding the collar over it carefully. “There we go. Now hurry up! You’re gonna be late!” You gather up your things and give him a wave. “See you after school, okay? Maybe we can hang out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nods, watching you rush off. A small smile spreads across his face and he stands up straight, walking to his own class.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d woken up early.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 6: Sailor’s Knots</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>This is starting to get infuriating. Have none of these grown ass men- no, </span>
  <em>
    <span>immeasurably ancient demon lords</span>
  </em>
  <span>- learned to dress themselves properly!?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Okay, maybe you’re over-reacting. Lucifer’s just tired lately. Regardless, you quickly pat his tie back into place, giving him a Look. This is the fifth time you’ve fixed </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> part of his wardrobe today, and it’s only lunchtime. He bows his head to you and steps away, looking oddly… something. You can’t tell what that expression is, but you’ve seen it before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But nobody else has an excuse!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Okay, you’re definitely over-reacting. Almost none of them wore their uniforms properly from the day you got here. Hell, Lucifer occasionally leaves a vest button undone when he’s out of uniform, though if that’s some weird fashion choice you wouldn’t be surprised. Same thing with Satan and his tendency to only wear one sleeve of his jacket. Still, you can’t help but sigh as Leviathan fiddles, trying to sneak some earbud wire through his shirt so he can covertly listen to music during class instead of actually paying attention.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not two days before, you’d been approached by Mammon, who’d “borrowed” his wireless headphones and consequently broken one and dropped the other in a boiling river somewhere near The Fall. You snicker quietly at the memory of Mammon’s big shiny doe eyes begging you not to snitch on him. Levi still doesn’t know, but only because of a tight hug and obnoxiously pretty eyes blinking up at you from silver lashes. Whoa, where did that thought train come from? Focus!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Levi.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks up at you, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. “Huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please at least tuck in your shirt when you’re done with…” You gesture at his hands digging around between his buttons, determined to not accidentally show off his surprisingly cut abs. “That.” How is he so fit, despite rarely even leaving his room? Probably something to do with swimming.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He blinks at you before blushing sweetly and nodding. An earbud is shoved through one of the button holes in his shirt in his fumbling, and he curses and yanks it out, chucking the earbuds on the breakfast table like they’ve personally insulted him. Huffily, Levi shoves his bangs out of his eyes once again, glaring at the offending wire. This is getting painful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Try threading the other way, only one end to deal with. And hurry! Class is in a few minutes.” Levi’s eyes widen like you’ve told him the secrets of the universe, and he manages to get his cords all in place within the span of a minute and with only minimal fuss. Truly, you are a genius of untold proportions. Except then Levi tries to scramble past you (a lot closer than normal, you realize. He’s not usually one for touching people, and you have begun to wonder if it’s a shut-in thing or a “I don’t deserve affection and people think I’m gross” thing.) with his shirt halfway unbuttoned and his tie completely un-knotted. Which, obviously, is unacceptable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nuh-uh.” You say, grabbing onto his arm and tugging him back to you. He stumbles and looks anywhere but at you, ears flushing. You sigh, quickly trying to fumble his tie into a quick half windsor before he gets too twitchy and shoves you away. But… Curiously, he doesn’t yank away from you or babble indignantly about how he can do it </span>
  <em>
    <span>himself</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>normie,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and you can get your paws off of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Interesting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You give his chest a quick, friendly(?) pat and smile at him, choosing not to comment on the cold sweat that’s broken out on his forehead. “Okay. You’re all set. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Now</span>
  </em>
  <span> you can go to class.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nods. Swallows. Awkwardly sidesteps you, and is off to class.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Approximately a foot behind you, Satan snickers loudly to himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” You shriek masculinely, jumping away from him. You’re pretty sure the glare you give him could crack mountains and boil the sky, but he just covers his mouth, doing very little to muffle his laughter. “Where the hell- Stop laughing at me- where the hell did you come from?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Satan lets out one last barking laugh before taking a few deep breaths to compose himself. After a few moments, he’s calmed down enough to talk to you without bursting into giggles. His cute little yellow bowtie is crooked, and you instinctively reach up to straighten it out as he opens his mouth to speak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You do realize they’re doing it on purpose, right?” His tone is amused, but you see a sharp hint of something darker in his eyes when you look up at him in disbelief.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You snort. “Doing what?” You think you might already know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rolls his eyes. “The ties. The jackets. The shirts.” He leans in just a bit. “I think they’re jealous.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Uh huh. You were right. These boys have got to get their heads on straight. “Jealous.” Satan nods. “Of…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He places his hand over yours, still tugging at his bowtie, trying to get the loops even. “I thought you were more observant than that.” He looks down at your hands pointedly. You brush his fingers away and harshly tug the bow into place before stepping back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah. You’re gonna be late.” Not to mention you don’t feel like analyzing the actions of the seven men you live with who all have apparently been doing all they can to get you to touch them. The thought is... A little overwhelming, to be quite honest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You’ll deal with it tomorrow.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 7: Tomorrow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Seriously? Are you fucking kidding me right now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s what you’d like to say, but you don’t. Instead, you simply sigh and reach up, patting down Lucifer’s collar and straightening up his tie for him. He gives you a smile that you now realize is obnoxiously smug (and even more obnoxiously handsome, the prick), and steps aside. Right behind him is Mammon, who is at least gracious enough to look away bashfully when you move to button up his shirt (honestly, you’re shocked he hasn’t gotten into serious trouble for never even attempting to wear his uniform correctly) for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Levi is squirming and his hand twitches up a few times like he wants to grab your hands (whether to push you away or not is debatable), but he never quite gets there before you finish tying up his tie and send him on his way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Satan, as always, is waiting patiently with a barely crooked bowtie and a pleasant smile. As soon as you’re close enough to him, he leans in, voice lowered. “See? I told you they were doing it on purpose,” he says, eyes flicking over to Belphie, who is very carefully not watching you. “I’m just glad I thought of it first.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You give him a look that hopefully conveys something both very sarcastic and very scathing. You think you may need to have some kind of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Talk</span>
  </em>
  <span> with the brothers. After all, if one of them wants you to touch them, all they need to do is ask.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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